


The Great Escape

by TheCauldron



Series: The Great Escape [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Complete, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCauldron/pseuds/TheCauldron
Summary: Dean's meeting with Death is nothing like he expected. Honestly, who the hell is this kid?





	

Dean lowered himself gingerly into the seat opposite Death. The painfully thin man across the table from him barely glanced up, merely taking another bite of his pizza, skeletal fingers gracefully folded around the silver cutlery.

"I've been wanting to talk to you." Deaths voice was smooth and cold, sending shivers down the human's spine as he fought to keep himself from bolting.

"I've got to say," he choked out weakly, "I've got mixed feelings about that. So, i-is this the part where… Where you kill me?"

Death huffed slightly, taking another delicate bite. "You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well… Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you." Placing a slice of pizza onto the plate in front of Dean, he gestured negligently. "Eat."

He watched as Dean shakily picked up the cutlery and forked a small bite into his mouth, chewing slowly even as he eyed the Horseman with barely concealed terror. Waiting until he swallowed the morsel, the Horseman cut another bite for himself. "Good, isn't it?"

Their tense exchange was broken by a teen with messy black hair and startling green eyes hidden behind the most unflattering round glasses Dean had ever seen. He all but skipped into the room and over to their table, green eyes flicking quickly over the startled Hunter.

The stranger grabbed a chair from the table next to them, crowding up to their tableside. "Grab us a plate, won't you?" He asked Dean, his British accent clear in the silence of the restaurant.

Even as Dean complied, he noticed that the boy seemed completely unperturbed by the dead bodies slumped onto nearly every other table in the room. Even the waitress on the floor barely warranted a second glance beyond making sure her cooling corpse didn't trip him as he passed.

The Hunter nearly swallowed his tongue when Death inclined his head respectfully to their newest companion. He desperately wanted to ask who he was, but if Death himself bowed to this being, he _really_ didn't want to draw its attention to him.

"Death! How've you been? It's been ages!" The youth smiled cheerfully, tucking eagerly into the generous slice Death had served for him and moaning almost erotically at the flavour.

Dean was disturbed to feel his pants tighten slightly despite his terror at the situation. Well, _that_ was new.

"It's been an hour and a half," Death noted dryly.

The boy shrugged. "I was in a meeting with accountants and lawyers. It _felt_ like forever. Honestly, forget tears, I was nearly bored to Death! I mean surely sneaking into a Goblin bank under false pretences and breaking out on one of their captive security dragons shouldn't generate _that_ much paperwork. I said I was sorry, and it was _years_ ago!" He tried to maintain an expression of indignant hurt, but couldn't keep the mischievous grin from sliding across his face.

Dean stared in shock as Death actually _groaned_ , and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The boy waved his fork lazily. "Honestly, some of those old fossils will just drag things out until you can see your life fading before your very eyes! Hey Death, can I borrow your sickle next time I have to go to a meeting?"

"No."

The boy pouted, sulkily taking another bite. "But it will save you the trouble of collecting them later, and-"

"No."

"But-"

"Absolutely not."

"Oh, come on! It's not like anyone would miss them!"

"You are not upsetting the balance of nature just because you lack the patience to sit through a meeting with a couple of humans."

The boy huffed, glaring pointedly at Death. " _I'm_ human, in case you've forgotten."

Death scoffed lightly. "Hardly. It's a mere technicality at best."

Dean couldn't help himself, and shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat.

Fathomless black and emerald green eyes snapped over to him, pinning him in place.

"Sorry," the boy grinned cheerfully as he offered his hand. "Harry Potter, nice you meet you."

Dean eyed the hand warily. "Dean Winchester." He made to take the offered hand, but paused before making contact. "Um…"

Harry laughed lightly, reaching the last few inches to take Dean's hand. "I can't kill you with a touch. I'm not like Death."

Death cleared his throat. "Only because you're stubborn. You could do it if you _really_ wanted to."

Shrugging, Harry hummed in agreement. "So, sorry I interrupted whatever was going on when I arrived, but I was starving. What's going on?"

Death sighed slightly. "He wants my ring so that he can lock Lucifer back in his cage and stop the Apocalypse."

Harry eyed Dean with interest. "Apocalypse, you say?"

Dean nodded warily.

"I imagine that's a rather big deal, right? Lots of work, overwhelming odds, few allies; a real underdog story?"

Dean nodded again, sightly fearful of where this conversation was heading.

"And this Lucifer dude, bad news?"

Unable to contain his incredulity, Dean all but yelped. "He's the _Devil_. If he gets his way, he and Michael will duke it out in a supernatural grudge match, and take half the planet with them. Doesn't even matter which one of them wins, because either way we're screwed. Neither side is particularly fond of the human race."

Harry offered a wicked smile. "Sounds fun! Want some help?"

Death put his drink down with a thump. "Master! You're not serious?"

"Master?" Dean choked.

Shrugging sheepishly, Harry grinned. "Yeah, I'm the Master of Death. Totally misleading, really. I mean, yeah, you get some cool stuff with the title, but Death is bossy like you wouldn't believe, and a _complete_ mother hen."

Death huffed, offended. "I wouldn't _have_ to if you'd apply even the _smallest_ amount of reason or self-preservation to your actions!"

"It's not _my_ fault I get dragged into completely ridiculous situations and keep dying!"

"Says the man who intends to run away and fight the Apocalypse just so he doesn't have to attend a meeting with his asset managers."

"Have you _been_ to any of those meetings? You can hardly blame me for that!"

Death sighed in resignation. "Will you at least _try_ not to die this time?"

Dean glanced between the two men in bewilderment and growing hysteria, and wondered what he'd gotten himself into as Harry cackled and rubbed his hands together in glee.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a multi-chapter sequel to this, eventually. I have other projects on the go at the moment, but there WILL be more to this. That said, if you want to write your own spin-off/sequel, go for it. Just let me know first so I can read it, and credit me for the original idea.


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